On the wings of an Owl
by slowroad
Summary: Harry has trouble dating because every single one of his dates seems more interested in his name than anything else. He's lonely and frustrated. So Hermione signs him up with a dating service. Harry gets matched with a mysterious man who calls himself Fire-Breather. They write letters and get to know each other, even as they fall a little in love along the way.


**Written for: **hd cliche fest 2013

**Cliche:** epistolary fic

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Notes: **A big thank you to my sister who did all the reading and editing for me. Thank you, darling. You made the story a lot better than it would've been otherwise.

...

I can't believe you did this!" Harry said indignantly as he glared at Hermione.

She was unperturbed. "It is for your own good, Harry," she said calmly.

"That is what you always say."

"And I'm always right."

"But how could you sign me up without telling me?"

"Would you have agreed if I had?"

"Of course not!"

"So you see why I had to go behind your back?" Hermione said. "I honestly don't know why you're so annoyed about this. Do you want to go on being lonely and frustrated?"

"I am not..." Harry began, but he stopped the moment he saw the look on her face. He had no desire to have his own feelings explained to him in excruciating detail.

"But it is a dating service," he whined as he unrolled the parchment in his hand and read it over once again.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_You have been matched with client#113296 (I have enclosed his profile.) You will shortly be receiving a letter from him. Please send your reply to me and I will forward it. I hope that you will find him to be everything that you're looking for in a partner. Wishing you all happiness,_

_Luna Lovegood._

"It is not just any dating service, Harry. It's the best there is. Luna has only been doing this for a couple of years, but she's spectacularly good at it. It's almost like she has an instinct that lets her match the right people...How do you think Ginny and Blaise got together? Or Seamus and Theo? They're by far the happiest couples that we know."

"That was her?"

"Yes. And she's our friend, so you know that she'll be totally discreet."

_True_, Harry thought.

"And think about it. When has Luna ever led you wrong?" Hermione said.

"Um...never?"

"See?"

Harry sighed. There was simply no arguing with Hermione sometimes. "I know that you're only trying to help, but what makes you think this is going to work?"

"Aside from Luna's obvious expertise, the best thing about this is that it is anonymous. You don't know who he is and he doesn't know who you are. So it won't matter at all that you're Harry Potter. He won't know. And you'll have a chance to be yourself and to really get to know this person without your name getting in the way. Isn't that what you always wanted?"

Harry huffed in response. He hated it when Hermione used logic on him.

"But why, Hermione?" he said finally.

"Because you're lonely, Harry. And you're not very happy. You need to be with someone, same as the rest of us. I see that look in your eyes every time that we all get together and I can't take it anymore," she said, referring to their Sunday lunches at the Burrow and their monthly get togethers with all their friends. Harry was the only one of the group who was still single. He'd had Ginny for company for a while, but no longer, now that she'd hooked up with Blaise...thanks to Luna, apparently.

"What look?" he said raising his chin in a gesture of defiance.

"Yearning, Harry."

...

It was a couple of hours later. Harry was sitting in his study and staring idly at his computer. He was trying to write, but he simply couldn't focus. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He sighed and put the glasses back on. He stared at the parchment that Hermione had left on his table. It was the profile of the mysterious client#113296 that Luna had matched him with. She had sent it along with her letter, but he hadn't seen it yet. He'd been too irritated with Hermione...He knew that she was only trying to help, but he did not want to do this. He did not want to put himself out there and risk getting hurt again.

But now that he'd cooled down a bit, his curiosity was piqued. He reached for the parchment.

_**Client profile**_

_Client# 113296_

_Male._

_25 years old._

_Independently wealthy._

_Loves reading and playing Quidditch. Is fond of art, likes to play the piano and is rather fond of cooking._

_What he's looking for: In his words, "A smart, sensitive, funny, sexy, interesting man to share my life with."_

Harry couldn't deny that the profile was intriguing. This man, whoever he was, was the same age as him and he was fond of reading and Quidditch...both of which Harry counted among his own favourite things. _And he's fond of art, he plays the piano and he likes cooking. This is the sort of bloke that I would like to date...someone with a little bit of depth to him, someone who can keep me interested, _he thought.

He sighed as he put the parchment away. _Hermione's right._ _I am lonely_. It was nearly two years since he'd been in a relationship and over a year since he'd gone on a date. He'd got tired of every single one of his dates going all starry-eyed at the thought of dating 'The Saviour' and treating him like a celebrity and a hero. It was obvious that they cared more for the fame that came with being with him than anything else. He'd had a couple of one offs over the years, but they had been more unsatisfactory than anything else, because Harry was not the sort of person who was comfortable sleeping around.

He wanted to be in a relationship...he wanted to be in love. But somewhere in the last two years he'd given up all hope of that. He'd immersed himself in his writing and his charity work and he'd tried to convince himself that it was enough...that his work and his home and his friends were enough. That he didn't need anything more. _But that isn't true_ _is it?_ He thought, as he stared wistfully out of his window.

...

It was the morning of the next day. Harry was in the kitchen making breakfast when he heard a tapping on the window. He looked up and saw a beautiful Snowy Owl which reminded him rather painfully of Hedwig. He opened the window to let her in and took the parchment tied to her leg. He offered her an Owl Treat and laughed when she tilted her head to one side and looked at him, like she was assessing him, before stepping forward to take the Treat. He walked away from the window and sat at the kitchen table. He untied the parchment and started reading:

_Dear 164293,_

_That's the only name I have for you now, though I am hoping that we'll come up with something better soon. It is a little discomfiting to be writing to a number, but I suppose it is our own fault...we are in this position because we both requested anonymity. I must admit that I like the idea of getting to know someone without knowing their names and identities first, because that tends to colour one's impressions of people even before we know anything about them. So I suggest that we try to get to know each other in the real sense...ideas, opinions, feelings and perhaps even memories without giving out too many personal details._

_I've seen your profile as I'm sure you've seen mine and it seems that we have a few things in common. I am fond of Quidditch and reading, just as you are and while I didn't mention it, I too would rather live in the country than in the city. But I'm stuck in London at the moment. I like the image that you painted in your profile, of your house in the Scottish highlands, surrounded by acres and acres of woods and a beautiful garden that you say you are so fond of. Why do you like gardening so much? _

_There's a lot more that I'd like to say and many more questions that I want to ask, but I think this is enough for the first letter. I'm waiting to hear from you and hoping to find you every bit as intriguing as your profile made you sound._

_Fire-Breather._

**_..._**

Dear Fire-Breather,

Interesting name, by the way...just like your profile. I agree that it is a good idea to get to know each other while being anonymous. It is liberating in a way. It makes me feel like I can, for once, just be myself, without having to live up to an arbitrary image.

I do enjoy living in the country. I like the peace and quiet and I love walking through the trees and up the hills, both of which are abundant where I live. This is a stunningly beautiful place. I was here on vacation a few years ago and I came across this piece of land and I was tempted to buy it immediately.

It is probably the first thing that I ever bought for myself. I was only nineteen at the time and feeling a bit lost and restless. This place was like an anchor to me then. So I bought the land and I spent a few months building myself a home_._

Then I got to work on the garden. I'd never done any gardening before, but I knew what I wanted and I had a friend teach me what to do. I had nothing else on my plate at the time, so I spent hours wandering through nurseries, looking for plants and whole days out in the sun planting, weeding and caring for my garden.

It was good for me. I'd been having a really bad time for a couple of years before that and working hard all day and watching these plants grow and flower...it healed me. It helped me find some peace and a good deal of joy.

You say you're stuck in London. Why is that? I get the impression that you've spent some time living in the country. Am I right?

Wordsmith_._

**_..._**

_Dear Wordsmith,_

_You gave yourself away a little, with that name. Am I right in guessing that you're a writer? Seems to fit well with the home in the Scottish highlands and the long walks through the trees and the hills that you mentioned. I like what you said about gardening. That's the way I feel about cooking. I started cooking when I was twenty. I was alone, I had lost my family and I was depressed. It was just something to do, at first, but then I found that I really enjoyed it._

_I too had come out of a bad time then (it was a bad time for every one in our world, I guess) and I found a small measure of comfort in cooking. It was one of the few things in my life that kept me from remembering and thinking about stuff that I did not want to think about. Now it is a part of my life, like music and art and everything else that I enjoy._

_I was raised in the country. My mother was as obsessed about the garden as you seem to be and our home was beautiful. But I lost my parents a few years ago and now I find it difficult to live in that house. It is full of memories and most of them are just too painful to bear. So I moved out and bought myself an apartment in central London. It was a good change, but I've been here a couple of years now and I find that I am already quite weary of the city. I love the way you talk about your home and I wish I had a place of my own that I could love as much._

_You said in your profile that you love reading. What sort of books do you read? I read a lot of muggle literature, particularly fantasy fiction and science fiction. I still remember the day I discovered 'The Lord of the Rings.' I was sixteen years old and I was home for the summer. It was a difficult time for me and my family and this book was like a haven, an escape from everything that was wrong with my life. _

_Waiting to hear from you,_

_Fire-Breather._

**...**

Dear Fire-Breather,

I liked hearing about your discovery of 'The Lord of the Rings'. It is an absolutely brilliant book. I was seventeen when I read it. That was a horrible year for everyone in our world and I found escape and solace in reading. This is one of the books I read then and there was so much in it that I felt related to us and what was happening in our world at the time.

The book made me cry, it gave me hope, it made me hurt and it made me smile. It also gave me an abiding love of fantasy fiction. If you had to pick, which of the characters in the book would you say you related to the most? For me it is Frodo Baggins, a hobbit, a small man tasked to do the impossible, which he somehow accomplishes. Not that he could have succeeded without Sam...but still.

You're right in guessing that I'm a writer. I write books for children. It is a line of work that I stumbled into when I wrote my godson a story as a Christmas gift. He loved it and he asked for more. So I wrote a few more. His grandmother read the stories and thought they were rather good. So she sent them off to a publisher, who promptly sent me a contract and that was that.

Now that you know about my profession, it is only fair that you tell me about yours. If you're tired of living in the city, why don't you move? Is your work keeping you in London?

Wordsmith.

**...**

_Dear Wordsmith,_

_It was interesting to hear about your profession, particularly the fact that you found your way into it by accident. It's the sort of thing that makes one believe in destiny_. _I have a small business, making potions. I am currently in the process of expanding and hence the need to be in London. I could live in the country and apparate to work every day, but I tend to work around the clock, so this is just easier._

_As for your question about 'The Lord of the Rings', the character that I related to the most was Faramir. His attempts to win his father's approval were agonisingly familiar. I too had a difficult relationship with my father and I have made my share of foolish and sometimes disastrous decisions because I was trying to please him. I never did succeed...nothing that I did was ever good enough for him._

_Fire-Breather._

**_..._**

Dear Fire-Breather_,_

I'm sorry to hear about your relationship with your father. I'm sure that he thought he was looking out for your best interest when he pushed you to do whatever foolish things you did. Most parents mean well, but I think they don't realise how much power they have over a child and how much harm they can do, without intending it...I hope to be a parent one day and when I am, I hope I will remember this and tread carefully. What about you? Do you want to be a father someday?

I lost my parents when I was just a year old and all I know of them, I know from what other people have told me. I was raised by my aunt and uncle who made no secret of the fact that they saw me as nothing more than a burden and they did as little for me as they could manage. All this was many years ago, but the memories still rankle.

I was an unwanted kid. For years now, I have been surrounded by friends and I know they love me and all that, but it is simply not the same as having a family. I know that having a family of my own is not going to make up for everything that I've lost. But I guess I want to know what it feels like to have someone in my life who thinks I am the most important person in the world and who I know will love me no matter what.

Wordsmith.

...

_Dear Wordsmith,_

_I cannot imagine what it must be like to grow up without parents, though there are times when I think that not having my father around might have made my life easier. I would certainly have grown up to be a better person and I would probably not have as many regrets. He was not a good man and I don't think he saw me as anything other than a tool to mould and use as he saw fit. It's been a few years since he died, but I still feel bitter and resentful. So I can understand why the memories of your childhood still trouble you._

_My mother did love me, but she wasn't particularly demonstrative and she tended to defer to my father a little too often for my liking, but she did what she could, I suppose. I too have friends who care for me and do what they can to make sure that I am not too lonely, but nothing can take the place of a family. __I have been raised to believe that it is my duty to marry a witch and produce an heir to carry on the family name...I no longer care about having an heir or carrying on the family name, but I do want to have children and it doesn't matter that it will have to be by adoption. A child is a child, in my opinion. I definitely see myself as a father one day, but I don't think that I can or that I want to do it without a partner._

_And on a totally unrelated note, when did you realise that you're gay? Waiting to hear from you, as always,_

_Fire-Breather._

_..._

Dear Fire-Breather_,_

This is a bit embarrassing to admit, but I was nearly twenty when I realised that I am gay. It is not that I was in denial before that...I simply had no idea. My experience with girls was limited because I was a bit socially awkward (hardly a surprise considering my upbringing) and I was a bit of a late bloomer.

It was my girlfriend who first suggested that I might be gay...it was probably an obvious conclusion considering how awkward and hesitant I used to be around her. That was an acutely uncomfortable experience, but it did help me figure myself out, so I guess it was okay. What about you?

Wordsmith.

**...**

_Dear Wordsmith_**,**

_ I was fourteen years old when I found myself nursing a crush on one of the boys in my class. I tried to deny it, because being gay wasn't quite the done thing according to my father and I ended up repressing that part of myself for the next few years. It got to be a bit too much for me, I guess...A fact that I only realised when I woke up one morning feeling sore, bruised and hung-over in a hotel room by myself with no memory of how I'd got there._

_It was a painful and utterly mortifying experience and while it made me realise that I had to stop repressing myself and accept the fact that I'm gay, it also made me cautious and uncomfortable with the thought of being intimate. I was only nineteen at the time and I won't say that I was scarred, but it was a good long while before I was able to think about sex with a feeling other than discomfort and mortification._

_This is something that I have never told any of my friends. I'm a bit surprised that I find myself able to talk to you about it. Have you ever been in a serious relationship? _

_Fire-Breather._

_..._

Dear Fire-Breather,

I too find myself telling you things that I usually feel uncomfortable talking about. I can't explain it, but it is just easy with you somehow. I've been in a couple of relationships since I realised that am gay, but neither of them lasted long enough to become serious. I never wanted a casual relationship, but I seem to have a talent for picking the wrong guys.

My first relationship was also my first time with a man. It was good because it helped me discover my sexuality and get comfortable with being gay. It lasted about a year before my boyfriend decided that he wanted be with other guys and just have fun for a while. "It is silly to commit to a relationship when still we're so young," he said. I didn't agree and that was that.

My only other relationship was with a muggle. I met him in a bar and I liked him a lot but not being able to tell him about magic was always going to be a barrier between us. I decided that I would tell him if things ever got serious, but he left long before we got to that point. I still have no idea why he left. All I have is a note telling me that he doesn't want to see me any more.

That was two years ago and I haven't been with anyone since. I've been on a few dates, but I haven't meet anyone that I liked enough to even consider having a relationship with. And I'm not particularly fond of flings or one night stands, so it's been a lonely few years...

What about you?

Wordsmith.

**...**

_My dear Wordsmith_**,**

_I haven't been in a serious relationship either, though I have wanted it quite a bit. Things just never seemed to work out somehow. After that experience I told you about in my last letter, I was too shaken to want to be with anyone. So I kept to myself for a couple of years. And then I met this guy in a club in France. His name was Marcel and he was a couple of years younger than me, though he was a lot more experienced. He asked me to go home with him and I couldn't resist, though I hadn't yet got over that dreadful experience from a couple of years before._

_I ended up telling him about it and he was surprisingly gentle with me. We fell into a bit of an on again off again relationship after that...it was purely sexual because we had nothing in common and while I dislike such relationships in general, this was a useful experience because it helped me explore my sexuality and learn what I like and what I don't. It lasted a few months and then it ended almost inevitably when I came back to England._

_It has been three years since then and I've dated a few times hoping to find someone with whom I could connect emotionally and intellectually as well, so that it's not all about sex, but so far, I have been __frustratingly unsuccessful. I don't do flings or one night stands either, so I've been lonely too. Apparently I have turned into a bit of a grouch..."You need to get laid," my best friend keeps telling me and that is true but I honestly want more than that. I want to be in a proper relationship complete with 'romance and fairy lights.' I hope that doesn't make me sound like a girl._

_Have you noticed that we've neither of us mentioned school or Quidditch so far? _

_Fire-Breather._

_**...**_

My dear Fire-Breather_,_

I don't think that wanting 'romance and fairy lights' as you called it, makes you sound like a girl. I don't understand why people assume that for guys it is all about the sex. I like sex, I like it a lot and I'm not going to deny it. But that is not all I want. I want to find someone that I can love and when that happens, I'm going to want to take care of him and show him that I love him...and I hope that he'll want to do all of that for me as well.

I might as well come out and admit that I'm hoping that someone will be you. I find you very interesting and though we haven't known each other long, it somehow feels like we fit.

We haven't discussed school or Quidditch yet, because I think we both know that if we do, we just might figure out each other's identity and I'd rather not find out just yet. But there is probably no harm in talking about Quidditch in general. So tell me, who is your favourite team? My favourite team is Puddlemore

Wordsmith.

**...**

_My dear Wordsmith_,

_I'm glad that you think we fit. I would have to agree. I have never felt this comfortable with anyone before and_ _I too want to keep the anonymity for a little while longer, so let's continue to stay off school and Quidditch. But as you say, there is no harm in talking about the teams we support. My favourite team is the Falcons. It's been a while since I was able to get away from work long enough to watch them play. In fact, it's been several months since I got away from the lab and did anything. My friends tell me that I obsess about my work and maybe they're right...I don't really know. But it is true that I spend an inordinate amount of time at work these days._

_Sometimes I think I just don't want to go home and face the silence. I can ignore it when I'm at work, but the loneliness tends to get a bit acute when I get home. I spend hours at night playing the piano because I can't bear the quiet and I can't get to sleep. My friends keep inviting me to their homes and they try to make sure that I am never alone on a weekend and I really appreciate that, but these gatherings are starting to wear on me. All my friends are either married or in relationships and it is very hard to be the only single bloke there...it makes me feel like a failure._

_Fire-Breather._

_..._

My Dear Fire-Breather_,_

I know exactly how you feel because I have the same problem. I've been the only single bloke in my group of friends for a year now and it is getting harder and harder to deal with. I look at my friends and they all seem so happy. They're with someone they really care about and what bothers me I suppose is that most of them found it quite easy to find their partner while I have struggled and made mistakes and got hurt.

I guess I resent the fact that it has to be so difficult for me. I find myself wondering why that is. Am I just unlucky or am I actually unloveable?

Wordsmith.

...

_My dear Wordsmith,_

_I have only known you for a couple of months now, but I can tell you that you are not unloveable. Quite the contrary. But I can understand why you ask yourself that question. I too wonder if I am unlucky or if my loneliness is a punishment for all my misdeeds. I'm sorry I sound so gloomy but_ _today_ _was a particularly bad day. Two of my friends tried to set me up with someone. They didn't tell me about it. I would've refused outright, if I had known...and they don't know about you. I didn't tell them anything before because it was a bit embarrassing to admit that I had signed up with a dating service and then as I got to know you, our friendship, relationship by letter, whatever you want to call it, seemed a little too precious and private to share. So I didn't._

_Anyway, I got to their place for lunch and there was this bloke I used to know from school smiling at me and trying to make conversation as he very obviously checked me out. I hardly knew him at school and I was wondering what he was doing at our Sunday lunch when he started telling me how good-looking I am and how he's looking forward to 'being' with me and then of course, he made a pass at me...if inappropriate touching can be described as making as pass, while my friends very deliberately left us alone. It was aggravating! The man has no class, no sense and barely any conversation. All he wanted was to get in my pants. I almost hexed him on the spot. But I got a hold of myself and I told him to piss off. And then I left._

_I can't believe my friends thought I would be even remotely interested in that guy. Maybe they were just trying to make sure I got laid...I don't know what they were thinking. The entire episode left me feeling sick. Have I become so pitiful that my friends are looking at me and thinking that all I need is to get together with someone, anyone?_

_This letter has turned into one long rant. Sorry about that. I guess I just needed to get it all out. Write to me please and tell me that you're thinking about me. Because I'm thinking about you...pretty much all the time. And in case you haven't already figured it out, I like you rather a lot. _

_Fire-Breather._

_**...**_

Please don't apologise for a little bit of ranting. I don't mind at all. It is no hardship to listen and I'll do whatever I can to cheer you up. I haven't told any of my friends about you either. Only my best friend knows and that's because this whole thing was her idea. She asks about you every time we meet, but I can't seem to bring myself to tell her anything.

My friends used to keep trying to set me up as well. Their idea of the kind of bloke I might like is usually way off the mark and I nearly always ended up meeting guys who were good-looking and sexy even, but most of them were singularly lacking in substance. Some of the guys I dated were intelligent and capable of conversation and I liked them, but not enough to ask them out again.

I know that makes me sound like a snob and I'm not. But the thing is, I'm not looking for a casual relationship, so I want to be absolutely sure that someone is right for me before I get involved. I was not so discerning before and I paid quite dearly for it. So I don't want to make that mistake again. Liking someone isn't enough. There has to be a spark, a connection. I want to be with someone that I am passionate about. And I have a feeling that you could be that person.

I want to cheer you up, so I'm sending you a small gift. I hope you like it. Write to me. I will be thinking about you and waiting to hear from you.

Wordsmith.

**...**

_I don't know what to say...This is your idea of cheering me up? How can you give me something so exquisite and so obviously expensive and be so casual about it? I can't believe you got me this. I'm wearing it as I write to you and I love the way it feels against my skin and the way that the emerald catches the light when I move my hand. It takes my breath away, every time I look at it. And that's not just because it is so beautiful, but because...well, it shows me that you care about me. And now I'm embarrassed. I sound like such a sap._

_I agree with everything you said about needing to make a connection. That is where all my dates have failed as well. Most of them were nice people; good-looking too, but it always felt as though something was missing. With you on the other hand, there was a connection, a feeling of comfort, from the moment I read the first letter that you wrote to me. So maybe there is hope for us after all. __I'm sending you a small gift. It is nowhere near as extravagant as that bracelet you got me, but I think you'll appreciate it. _

_Fire-Breather._

**_..._**

I...wow. Where on Earth did you get hold of this book? I've been looking for it for years. It is incredibly rare and you actually sent me a first edition? I'm stunned and I don't know how to thank you. All these years I've heard about Archibald Marchbanks and his 'Romp through the Woods'. I've been told again and again that it is the best children's book ever written by a wizard and I have been dying to read it.

Thank you so very much and what do you mean it is not as extravagant as my gift? This is precious...and I'm going to treasure it. You're bloody wonderful, you know that?

Wordsmith.

**...**

_I'm so glad you liked the book. It's been in my family for two generations and it used to be my favourite book as a child. I was rummaging through my library the other day when I found it and I immediately thought of you. I can picture you now, sitting in the warm sunshine of your garden, probably under a tree and reading about wood elves and dragons and nymphs with golden feet. I wish I could be there with you._

_Fire-Breather._

_**...**_

I can't believe that you gave me a book that has been in your family for two generations...Who does that? It's the kind of generosity that I have never encountered. Thank you so very much. I love that picture you painted of me sitting under a tree in my garden and reading that book. I couldn't do that yesterday. I was too busy working on the proofs for my latest book to have the time to read, but I'm just about to head out into my garden now and I'm going to be sitting under an old oak tree and I'm going to be wishing that you were here with me. I can see you lying with your head in my lap and holding my hand while I read to you.

What are you reading these days?

Wordsmith.

**...**

_I like the picture that you painted as well. It is sweet and romantic and I think I'm turning into a bigger sap than ever. You, sir, are a terrible influence._

_I'm reading five different books right now and the best of the lot is Melbrook's 'History of Wizarding Britain'. It is beautifully written and it is engaging, with emphasis on people and their motivations, events and their consequences rather than details like dates and laws and rules that Professor Binns used to be obsessed with. _

_I don't think I managed to stay awake in a single class of his. He had a talent for making lectures boring and I don't think that was only because he was a ghost. What are you reading?_

_Fire-Breather._

_**...**_

I was never able to stay wake in Binns' class either and he pretty much put me off history forever. Apart from 'Romp through the Woods' which is exquisite by the way, I'm reading a cook book. It is called 'Kitchen spells', a very simple title for a wonderfully elaborate book about cooking with magic. I'm a pretty powerful wizard, but I've never been any good at cooking spells, so I've always used muggle methods of cooking.

But this brilliant book makes me want to want to cook with magic. I've tried to learn before, but I've never been very interested and I think I gave up too quickly. What about you? Can you cook with magic?

Wordsmith**.**

**...**

_Of course I know how to cook with magic; it's the only way to cook! I've never used any muggle instruments in the kitchen and I don't think I ever will. They're too scary. I didn't know any cooking spells until I found myself all grown up and alone with no house-elves to take care of me. So I taught myself. They're fairly easy to learn if you put your mind to it. I'm in the mood to bake this weekend and I want to make you a little something. So tell me, what is your favourite dessert?_

_Fire-Breather._

_**...**_

You want to make something for me...that is so sweet. Thank you. My favourite dessert is treacle tart. It is something I have never been able to make for myself. I'm a decent cook otherwise, but desserts elude me. Cake is about the only dessert I manage not to make a mess of.

Wordsmith.

_**...**_

_Here's your treacle tart and some chocolate cake as well. I'm one of those people who believe that it is not really dessert unless it is chocolate. So I usually end up making lots of chocolate cake. There's more where this came from. Just say the word._

_Fire-Breather_

_**...**_

_You are one amazing cook. Both the tart and the cake are delicious. I liked the tart so much I almost made dinner of it last night. Thank you. I'm sending you a little something in return. I hope you like it._

_Wordsmith_

_**...**_

_I love the flowers. They are so beautiful. I don't even know what some of them are. I recognise the Roses and the Freesias, but what are the others?_

_Fire-Breather_

_**...**_

_The other two flowers are both Lilies. The yellow edged one is called the Gloriosa or the Glory Lily and the white one is the Eucharis or the Amazon Lily. They're my favourite flowers. I took some pictures when I went for my walk this morning. I thought you might like to see them._

_Wordsmith_

_**...**_

_That is your house? It is gorgeous. And your garden, oh my. Now I know why you're so crazy about it. And you bought this place and built your house when you were nineteen? Admiration and envy are both fighting for space in my head right now..._

_I think I'm falling for you. _

_Fire-Breather_

_**...**_

I'm falling for you too...Do you think we should meet?

Wordsmith

**...**

_Yes_**_. _**_I'm terrified of the prospect, but yes._

_Fire-Breather._

**_..._**

Tell me where and when and I'll be there.

Wordsmith

**...**

_Do you know Mario's on Portland Street? It is my favourite Italian restaurant in London. It's muggle of course, but I thought it would be best if we didn't go to a wizarding establishment for our first date...Less chance of either of us being recognised. Is seven-thirty tomorrow okay for you? Let me know._

_Fire-Breather_

**_..._**

Seven-thirty tomorrow is perfect and I agree that a muggle restaurant would be better than a wizarding one. I haven't been to Mario's but then I'm rarely in London these days. I am really looking forward to seeing you and I'm equal parts excited, terrified and nervous. Tomorrow cannot come fast enough.

Wordsmith

**...**

_I can't believe that I am finally going to see you. I've called Mario's and made a reservation under my name. I can't tell you what that is just yet. So when you get there ask the hostess for table ten. I'll be there and I'll be waiting._

_Fire-Breather._

**...**

Draco had never been this nervous in his life. He stood in front of his mirror, twisted this way and that, wondered if he was overdressed, wondered if his shirt was the right colour, was forgoing the tie a good idea? Were his trousers a good fit? Should he change them and what about his shoes? Was his hair too long? Was his jacket too tight? He was tying himself up in knots and he knew it, but he couldn't help it. This was the most important date of his life...he just knew it, had known it ever since he'd read that first letter signed Wordsmith.

There had been an almost instant connection and that was the sort of thing that had never happened to him...ever. He sighed as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he wondered for the millionth time if this man was who he thought it was. If his guess was right, he could be going out there only to be rejected, _but I am not going to think about that,_ he told himself firmly. A glance at the clock told him that he had less than ten minutes to get to the restaurant. So he took a deep breath, gathered himself and left.

**...**

Harry couldn't hear himself think with the way Hermione was fussing over him and his clothes and his hair, but irritating as he found it, he had to admit that he needed her help. He may not be a fashion disaster anymore, but he rarely got out and all his clothes were strictly functional. He'd floo called Hermione the minute he'd agreed to the date and she'd taken him on an emergency shopping trip.

"Nothing that you have will do, Harry," she'd said when he'd protested. "You're obviously besotted with this man and it's your first date. You need to look your best, impress him, make him drool. You're a very good-looking man Harry, you just need to dress on a way that really flatters you, now come on."

Their shopping trip had taken all morning and then some. It was late afternoon by the time Harry got back home with strict instructions to eat, rest a little, bathe and wait, while Hermione went home to check on her kids. Harry did as instructed...he sat in the hot bath feeling his muscles relax an his tensions ease while he wondered again if he was right in guessing who the mysterious Fire-Breather was.

It was the name that had made him wonder at first, but he'd dismissed it thinking that it was highly unlikely, but with the letters that had followed and all the details that they'd shared...he'd been pretty sure for some time now and it had excited him, worried him, made him anxious. He was as desperate to see him as he was afraid...there was a part of him that was sure that he would be rejected tonight. But there was also a tiny spark of hope that he held on to as he listened to Hermione's instructions.

She was thrilled that Harry had found someone that he really cared about and more than a little pleased that it had all been due to her 'interference'. Harry hadn't told her that he had already guessed who his correspondent of the past two months was. He hadn't shown her any of the letters nor had he shared any details about the things they'd written to each other. Hermione had asked several times, but Harry had been firm in his refusal, saying that everything that had been said in the letters was personal and only for him.

Finally Hermione was done fixing his hair and making him look "less like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards," as she put it.

She stepped back to look at him. "You look great," she said. "He would have to be an utter fool to refuse you."

He smiled wryly at that. She had somehow managed to figure out the cause of his nervousness. _That's my Hermione_, he thought as he looked fondly at her. She was bossy and interfering, but she was also ridiculously perceptive, very loyal and affectionate to a fault. She hugged him, almost as if on cue. "Go get him," she whispered as she stepped away and pushed him towards the door.

Harry apparated into an alley that was about a block away from _Mario's_. His heart was thudding as he walked towards the restaurant. It was a beautiful midsummer evening and the sun was still out. The streets were busy but not crowded and there was a buzz in the air that only served to make him more excited and anxious. He walked through the doors of the restaurant and into the lobby. He walked up to the reception and asked for table ten. He followed the hostess as she led him there. It was a corner table, right next to the large glass windows with a beautiful view of the street.

Not that he saw the windows or the street. His attention was taken up by the man sitting there. He was looking out of the window, so he had his head turned away from Harry. But a look at that silky, white-blond hair was enough to tell Harry that he had guessed right. It was Malfoy. Harry had spent the last two months writing to, thinking about and dreaming of Draco Malfoy. He stood there with his heart thudding as he wondered how Malfoy was going to react.

Draco was sitting at the table, looking out of the window and trying to get a hold of himself. He couldn't believe how nervous he was. He glanced at his watch...seven-thirty. _Any minute now_, he thought and then he turned and saw Harry Potter standing a couple of feet away from him. He stood up and tried to smile, but his face wouldn't coöperate. Harry walked up to the table and hovered for a moment, clearly hesitating, not sure whether to sit or not.

And then Draco found his voice. "Potter," he said as he held out his hand. Harry took it, trying not to look too eager. "Malfoy," he said and they stood there holding hands and looking intently at each other, each trying to figure out what the other was thinking, but neither of them was giving anything away.

"Shall we sit?" Draco said and Harry nodded. Neither of them knew what to say or how to proceed and it was really rather awkward.

"You don't seem particularly surprised to see me," Harry said finally.

Draco coloured. "I knew it was you. I figured it out."

"When?"

"About a month ago."

"And yet you kept writing to me."

"Of course I did, Potter. The fact that it was you only made it better."

Harry was completely taken aback. He was saved from replying by the arrival of the waiter who handed them their menus. Neither of them was in the mood to eat, but they ordered anyway. It would give them something to do while they figured out how to talk to each other without the aid of a quill and parchment.

"You're not surprised to see me either." Draco said after a minute.

"Um...no. I knew it was you."

"And yet you kept writing to me." Draco said with a smirk as he echoed Harry's words.

"I'm glad it's you," Harry said honestly.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," Draco muttered. "How did you know?"

"The same way that you did, I guess. There were clues in all our letters. 'Fire-Breather' was the first hint. My mind went to you straight away, but I dismissed it, thinking that it was highly unlikely. Then you told me that you have a potion making business and that you live in London...Both things that I know about you. Then you told me that you grew up in the country but that you moved out of your family home because you couldn't stand all the memories...you know things like that. It could've been someone else of course, but considering that we're the same age, we would've been in the same year at Hogwarts and there are only so many of us who are gay. What gave me away?"

"The Christmas story that you wrote for Teddy...that was my first clue. He'd showed it to me and made me read it and I remember thinking that you were pretty good. Then there was the fact that your parents died when you were a baby and that you grew up with your aunt and uncle who didn't care about you..."

"How did you know about that?"

"Ginevra told me."

"Why would she tell you something like that?"

"Because I asked her about you. She also told me that you broke up because you realised, or rather she made you realise that you're gay...that was the clincher, I think."

"Hmmm...so you really don't mind that it is me you've been sharing your secrets with?" Harry said. He looked a bit disbelieving.

"No, I told you."

"But why? How? You used to hate me!"

"I never hated you, Potter. I was jealous of you and angry that you rejected me and being the emotionally stunted prat that I was, I didn't know how to deal with any of that, so I took it out on you. But I was a kid then. I'm a lot more sensible and mature now. Besides, you saved my life. It's not exactly possible to dislike someone when they risk their own life for you." Draco said. And then he went quiet. He looked a bit pensive.

"What are you thinking about?" Harry said.

"I'm wondering why you're sitting here and talking to me so calmly. I was a convinced that you would take one look at me and leave."

"Why would I do that?"

"You can't have forgotten all the horrible things that I did to you."

"I haven't forgotten anything. You were a real prat back in school, but you've changed. You've worked hard to create an identity for yourself that has nothing to do with your father or the things that he stood for and after everything I've learnt about you in the last two months...I really like you and I would love it if we could give this thing," he said, waving his hand vaguely between them, "a shot. I think we'd be great together."

"So you're actually okay with this...with us?" Draco said.

"More than," Harry said and then he smiled and just like that the awkwardness was gone.

He reached for Draco's hand and held it...and then they both relaxed, feeling warmed by the contact and surprised at how right it felt. Their food arrived and they talked quite easily as they ate, holding hands and flirting every now and then. Harry had long thought that Draco was good-looking, but he found him particularly gorgeous that night as he looked across at him in the fading light of the late evening as Draco flushed under his scrutiny and pushed an errant lock of blond hair off his face.

Draco for his part, was feeling all the weight of his years long crush settle in his heart as he gazed at Harry, marvelling again at how truly beautiful he was, from that messy mop of dark hair to the brilliant green eyes which he had always found mesmerizing, to the strong line of that jaw with just a hint of stubble on it and that smile which made his breath hitch...he couldn't take his eyes off the man. It was all he could do to stay coherent enough to follow the conversation. He'd come there that night expecting rejection. It was a bit surreal to find such complete acceptance.

They finished their meal and had the customary battle over the cheque, which Draco won. "I was the one who asked you out Harry," he said, as he paid.

Then they walked out hand in hand and continued to talk as they walked down the street to the apparition point. Neither of them knew what to do once they got there...Draco wanted to ask Harry to come over to his flat, but he thought that might be too forward. He was still trying to make up his mind when Harry leaned forward and kissed him on his cheek. "I don't want to let you go yet," he whispered.

"Good. Now I can ask you to come over to my place without feeling like I'm being too forward," Draco said.

Harry chuckled. He stepped a bit closer and put his arms around Draco. "Let's go," he said simply.

Draco smiled and then he put his arms around Harry as well and apparated them directly into his living room. They stood there, holding each other with the obvious question on their minds as they gazed intently at each other for a minute. Then they leaned forward and kissed.


End file.
